John Rackham (17 page)

Jack checked himself, bow, arrows, beamer,
knife
...
and admitted the same,
then
he saw Silvana looking thoughtful. "Would you
think me foolish, gentlemen," she murmured, "if I point out that the
power-jewels are of great value, that we ought to
...
steal some?"

"Steal?" Haldar
cried. "Most of them were looted from

our
ships in the first place. And you are right,
my lady, they are of great value in any terms, either as gems or power-units.
And I have plenty of plastic bags."

At
the jewel-racks they took Haldar's advice and concentrated on the pure-white
Shagateel gemstones. They loaded two bags each, twisting the loose necks
together to make them convenient for slinging over a shoulder. Then Silvana
discovered that by bending the wire points it was relatively easy to pin the
fire-glittering things to cloth. A short while later her robe glittered with
gems, hiding the rips and tears in it, and never in his wildest dreams had Jack
expected to wear such a precious tunic. The one thing they had to exercise was
restraint, so as not to overload themselves to the point of hindering their
progress. While stuffing a bag with gems, Jack found a moment to ask Haldar:

"What is the quick way to dispatch a
beetle? As I was bringing Silvana we were attacked by a thing with jaws, and I
shot out its eyes but it kept on coming. Where does one hit it?"

"They
take a long time to die anyway. There is no quick method as far as I know, but
if you chop the head from the body they are harmless. The spider-things are
different. You avoid them altogether if you can. One touch is all it takes.
Every hair is poisonous."

"How
does it happen," Jasar asked, overhearing, "that an armored and
protected chamber like this becomes infested anyway?"

"Through the roof."
Haldar pointed up. "There's a variable
ventilation system, mobile slats. At certain periods in the cycle they swarm
and this place gets full of them. When that happens Garmel seals it off and
flushes it out with poisonous vapor. Then I have the job of sweeping up the
dead. But there are always a few that escape. Are we all ready?"

EIGHT

It was a significant pilgrimage for Jack,
that procession along the vast roofs of the cabinets, the air full of the
twittering and clicking of strange machines and little-understood powers, with
the lithe striding grace of Silvana by his side, her fingers affectionately in
his. She had contrived two jewel-clips for her hair, to bring it in two golden
tails over her proud breasts. Her arm glowed where she shouldered her twin bags
of jewels. From waist to thighs she was a blaze of fire, but from there on down
to her bare feet she was slim golden-brown loveliness that matched the jewels
for beauty. Jasar, on ahead with Haldar, had said they would not be coming
back this way again. Jack read something deeper into that. This might be the
last time he would ever walk hand in hand with this lovely girl. Her kiss
lingered in his memory, as did her crushing embrace and her passionate plea
never to leave her alone again. He savored those memories, but his sturdy
common sense told him that such miracles came only out of the pressure of the
situation, from danger and the imminence of sudden death. If all went well, if
they managed to get safely away, then there would come a time for more sober
thinking.

Her
fingers gripped his suddenly. "Your thoughts trouble you, Jack. May I
share them?"

"You fill them,
Silvana."

She
squeezed his hand again and smiled. "You should not say it in that
fashion. Why would thoughts of me bring a frown to your brow? A smile would be
more appropriate. Or is it my danger that you worry at?"

"No.
Dangers come so swiftly and in such surprising guises here that it would be a
waste of time to worry at them. No
...
I am thinking of the time after, when we

are
safely escaped, perhaps back on my own
world. Then you would know just how humble I am, that I am indeed
a nobody
."

"I
see." She nodded seriously, but he had the suspicion that she was amused
underneath. But then they were catching up on the others and she gripped his
fingers once more. "Now we must cross this fearful gap
...
and I have need of all my courage. We
can talk about this later."

There
was nothing he could do about her fear except make her crawl on hands and knees
ahead of him, so that he at least had a hope of catching her ankle should she
lose her head and fall. Her feet, just ahead of him, were small, grimed with
dust, but a part of her and so to be adored. She was all wonderful. She never
hesitated once, but followed steadfastly where the others led, and so down to
the silver-gray floor once more, and then into the relative safety of the
hollow walls. Again Jack had the bewildering sense of so many turns to right
and left that he was completely lost, but Haldar brought them safely to where
they were aiming for. And this time he left the cut-away opening clear after
them.

"The
next time we go down there," he said, "we will be in a hurry, on the
run, and it won't matter a snap whether we leave traces or not. Now, up this
ladder to the table."

The
tabletop was an ebony expanse on which stood a slant-fronted box the height of
ten men. Along the bottom edge and up one side were neat rows of buttons and
switches, each labeled in odd designs. Haldar seemed familiar with them.
"Emergency power is on all the time, of course," he explained,
"to pick up incoming calls. But we need operating power. Like this."
He threw all his weight onto a switch suddenly. A red eye came alive and the
machine
sighed
a quiet hum of power.
"Now!"
Haldar pointed to a red button
dramatically. "That is the Transmit' switch, and no one touches that, in
any circumstances; right? Not ever! The next thing"—he stared up at the
bank of buttons on the right—"is to find out where Garmel is. If he's
aboard the visiting ship we are out of luck, but if he has invited his friends
into his own cabin quarters . . . let's see!" He scaled the switch complex
nimbly, pausing at one, to throw it over. At once they heard the thunderous
grumble of Dargoon speech.

"...
the
quiet end of the war, here, Garmel. Don't
you ever have an urge to take out a ship and meet the misbegotten Salviar
scum, see their lumbering cans burst into flame as you hit them?"

"What I want,
Halko,
is nothing to do with what I have to do." To Jack's ear Garmel sounded the
worse for drink. Haldar came scrambling down the instrument, to find and throw
another switch, then stand back.

'Translator," he said,
briefly. "What's he saying . . . 7"

"Hilax
asks from a man what he can best do. I am an analyst-strategist. That is my
talent.
My work.
What I would like
...
nothing to do with it."

"The
story is," another fuddled voice came in, "that High Command is about
to amend regulations to allow for Dargeen cooperation. There's
talk
of having Dargeen aides and stewards on the bigger
ships.
I’ ll
wager you'd like a willing young Dargeen
assistant here, eh, Garmel?"

"Would
depend how willing, Kartral.
Plenty of free time, nothing
else to do.
Would suit me fine!"

"High
Command is staffed with thickheads," the other voice mumbled. "If
they they had let us
go
ahead with our
planet-splitting program, the Salviar scum would be begging for treaty by now.
Crawling for it.
Look at Bracata
...
and Willan
...
and Strella
...
totally destroyed. And we never lost a unit. You'd think an Iron Wheel and
stars, at least, for that. I was on that operation. But no!
Reprimand.
Acting without direct orders! Concentrate on military objectives. Blah!
Cripple their war-machine, they tell us. And what happens? The blasted Salviar
fight like demons, we lose ships, and men. But we never took a hit, I tell you,
when we blasted their out-planets. And hurt them, too.
Strategy?
Don't talk to me about strategy!"

"I
wasn't!" Garmel sounded distressed. "You should not speak so loosely,
Halko. If this were ever retold
...
but why, why do we talk and think about the confounded war? Look, the meal-unit
is flashing readiness
...
and what
about that erotic album you were going to show, Kartral?"

Haldar
flung himself at the switch again and the sounds ceased. He came back down the
slant board savagely. "We heard plenty; didn't we?" he said, choking
on the words.
"Wiped out!
The
whole planet!"

"You
have my sympathy, Haldar." Jasar sounded gruff.
"You,
too, lady.
I knew of this.
My home planet also.
This was one of the reasons why I put myself forward for this mission, one of
the reasons why it has to succeed. The Hilax High Command may well try
terrorist methods like that again. We have to hurt them. How long would you say
that meal will hold them, Haldar?"

"How long?"
Haldar shook himself out of a stunned rage.
"Three time units at least. Time enough for us to get a decent meal, and
cleaned up
...
and some sleep. Which
we need, but I don't know if I can sleep, now.
The whole
planet, just like that!"

Jack
turned fearfully to Silvana. Her face was a calm mask of shock, utterly numbed.
She gazed emptily at him. "I think I always knew," she said,
"that I would never see my home again.
But not this
way."

"Don't
grieve, my lady!" Haldar growled. "At least, we still live, and we
can hit Garmel. Come; let me show you some quiet, some security, even some
luxury, if only for a little while." He led them down the ladder again, to
the floor and across to a corner where stood a cabinet against the wall.
"This was a spare unit recorder, due for scrap. Garmel gutted it and let
me have it for my own use. He even brought me the plunder from a few wrecked
ships so that I could equip it. I think it amused him, in a perverted way, to
humor me. In here
...
this is where
the power-line passed through originally."

"I
know that twisted humor of his," Silvana agreed. "It seems to give
him pleasure to watch how nearly human we are.
Like performing
animals.
But this is very fine!"

Jack
had to agree. In this main chamber the floor was cold metal, but there were
stacks of square cushions here and there, and chairs on swivels, and the whole
brightly lit with naked bulbs hanging from the walls high up.

"Apart
from the pin-lamps, which came from Garmel's spares, everything is ship's
loot," Haldar explained. "It went against the grain at first, to be
taking from my own kind. But they had no use for it anymore, and one grows a
callus over one's conscience, after a while. Grieving for the dead doesn't help
a man to live. Through here I have a food-machine, fully stocked. And a
shower-cubicle that works.
And a wardrobe, well-stocked.
Even"—he looked to the girl with a shrug of deprecation—"to dresses
and fabrics. It was always possible that Garmel would find it amusing to
provide me with a mate, one day. I never knew whether to hope for that, or not.
You can take whatever you like, of course, while I prepare us all a meal."

"Oh!"
Silvana sighed.
"To be clean again!
A shower!
That must come first above all!" and she ran to a corner where there were
curtains of glassy stuff, which revealed, when she pulled them back, a fearsome
array of pipes and switches and white walls. Jack gaped at it, but she seemed
overjoyed as she turned to Haldar. Now let me see your wardrobe, so that I can
pick something civilized to wear!
After so long!"

"There!"
He pointed to a set of paneled cupboards that covered the wall alongside the
shower, and she drew the doors aside to gloat over a profusion of
rainbow-colored materials. Jack shook his head, turned to see Haldar grinning
at him sympathetically.

"You've seen a
food-machine before, Jack?"

"Yes.
Jasar has one on his ship. Not as big as this. But I never saw the like of that
shower thing before. At home, when I want to be clean, I use the river, and
soap that my mother makes from a certain kind of earth close by. I itch to be
clean, to wash away the sweat, but you'll have to show me what to do to make
that machine work."

"I
will. It's simple enough. Ill
show
you once her ladyship
is done with it. Many's the time I've bathed in the river and dried in the sun,
but, like so many other things, the war has stolen such simple pleasures from
me. Well have to see what will suit you from my wardrobe, too. Happily you're
of a size near enough the same as
myself
, and I have
plenty
..."
He let the rest of
his words go. Sil-vana, beyond the curtain, started to sing, and the bird-clear
sound of her voice made them all stop still to listen.

"Once a Prince, a fine and noble Prince,
a very handsome Prince, fell in love with a simple country maid.

"He sighed for her beauty, but the
burden of his
duty,
came between them and their troth
was never said.

"Then there came the dreadful day when
he had to go away, with all the other men to fight a war.

"When the maiden sad at heart saw the
noble Prince depart, to risk his life in other lands afar.

"Slow the time went and the stories of
the battles and the glories did but little to bring pleasure to her life.

"All about her kingdoms crumbled, e'en
the Prince's house was humbled, and everyone grew weary of the strife.

"So the war at last was ended, but the
past could not be mended, and the Prince returned where wealth was his no more.

"But the maid went
quick
to meet him, quick to face him, and to greet him, and to offer him the welcome
of her door.

"Now your
duty's
done, she cried; you are free to take a bride, and our love is still as true as
at the start.

"You've
lost lands and crown and wealth but you have your strength and health, and
forevennore you'll always have my heart.

"So
the Prince, the poor and weary Prince, the very humble Prince, loved and lived
with the simple country maid,"

"That's an old, old melody," Haldar
murmured, 'but the words are a bit different from those I know." That liquid-pure
voice came again, without words this time, just lilting the melody. Jack was
enraptured. From her cage he had thought her singing beautiful, but now it was
rainbows and sunshine and happiness all blended into sound. The room seemed
less bright when at last it ceased. He saw the curtain swish aside to let her
step out, a rosy glow coming to her cheeks as Haldar smacked his palms together,
then Jasar
...
and then Jack,
realizing that this was a form of praise. She smiled, bowed, glowing all over
with pleasure, and Jack tingled. For here again there was a difference. He had
thought her beautiful before, but now, by the simple magic of water and soap
and cleanliness, she was radiant, reminding him, somehow, of a slim and nodding
daffodil. Now he never noticed that she was naked. In his eyes she was
perfectly clad in her beauty.

She
bowed again,
then
put up her palms in deprecation.
"You must let me dress, and be ordinary again, my friends. Besides, I am
sure you are all waiting to get clean and fresh. And I smell cooking to remind
me that it has been a long time since I ate a civilized meal. Excuse me."
She smiled again, reached into the shower-stall cubicle for a frothy confection
in many shades of blue, and looked speculatively about for somewhere to dress.

"I
have a cabin through there." Haldar pointed. "It's yours, of course,
while we are here, and welcome."

"You
spoil me," she declared, "but I am enjoying it" She disappeared
from sight, leaving Jack to stand agape at the memory.
Until
Haldar nudged him.

"Come
and
I’ ll
show you how to work the shower fixtures.
But we'll get you some clothes first. With your coloring, you'll look well in
blue." Jack gaped all over again as Haldar pulled out a brilliantly blue
tunic, with gold slashes and buttons, and pants to match, and a shirt of stuff
so fine that it seemed to flow across the palm when Jack tried to hold it.
"Put that on those hooks, your other gear on these. This—look—turns the
water on
...
this for hot, the other
for cold. Mix to suit. This injects soap. When you're ready, shut off the
water, rum
this,
and you dry in warm air-blast. All
set?" Haldar grinned at him cheerfully. "Take all the time you want.
Your meal will be kept hot."